


Only You Can Fill Me Up

by Hungry Trashlord (rapono)



Series: Devoured by Daylight [3]
Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Boogie boi craves the strudel, Hunger Pains, Obsession, SameSize, Soft Vore, Unwilling, Vore, back at it again to curse the dbd tag, this is what happens when my brain won't shut up at 3am
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 06:32:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16487585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rapono/pseuds/Hungry%20Trashlord
Summary: An obsession. That's what Laurie was to Michael, ever since that fateful Halloween. The entity however, had come up a much more twisted way of keeping Michael obsessed with her.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've got writer's block when it comes to writing the next entry for _Snake in my Boot_ , so instead my brain gave me this scenario at 3am.
> 
> I'm so sorry my fellow dbd fans and players. Turn back now if you don't like vore.

Hunger. He didn’t think he'd feel it, not here. It came and went, but it was undeniably a feeling of hunger.

At first, he couldn’t figure out why, or what seemed to trigger it. It just seemed to come and go as it pleased. 

That was, until during a trial, he realized how delicious Laurie smelled. Catching a whiff of her made his stomach growl and mouth salivate.

It was more than simple hunger. It was a craving. His body begged him to consume his obsession, torturing him with hunger pangs when he was close but didn’t comply.

After being unable to down her after many a trial, Michael was in pain. The feeling of hunger was too strong, and he needed relief.

So when the next trial rolled around, he had a plan.

The vori momento mori was tossed into the flames, a grin beneath his mask as the entity accepted his offering. With a scratched mirror in hand, Michael waited as the fog surrounded him, taking him to the next trial.

Haddonfield. How fitting. Home. Their home. But there was no time to ponder on that, he had to find his prize. 

With the power of the mirror, he wandered around, hoping to catch the aura of a familiar figure.

Blessed be the entity, he spotted her walking into the basement of a home, alone. He followed in her steps, finding her working on the generator, oblivious to his presence.

He could rip her off it, right now, but the risk of that plan failing was too high. She'd likely stab him in the shoulder, then run away, likely towards others.

No, he wanted to make sure she’d stick around as long as possible.

So instead, he gave her a light tap on the shoulder. He watched her glance behind her, jumping and gasping as she realized who it was. She scrambled away from the generator, attempting to evade the strike of his blade.

But he didn't swing, nor did he move from his spot. He stood there, watching, hoping Laurie would notice him not engaging on the chase.

And blessed be his luck, it worked. Laurie stopped mid dash as she realized she was not getting chased, cautiously turning back to look at him.

“Michael?”

He cocked his head slightly acknowledgement, and she came a little closer. He felt his hunger gnaw at him.

“What are you doing?”

He didn’t answer, but instead gripped the bottom of his mask, pulling it up slightly. She got closer. He resisted the urge to lunge, despite the craving calling him to do so.

“Michael?” Her voice was more thick with confusion than before.

But it was working, so with only a brief moment of hesitation, he pulled his mask off.

Everything was a little too bright, his face feeling exposed and uncomfortable. A sharp gasp came from his prey, as she closed the gap between them, a look of awe as her eyes stayed glued to his face.

“Wow, you look, normal?” He bent down, luring her to get even closer to him. She took the bait, now almost pressed against him, as she reached out to touch his face.

A slight recoil. He wasn’t used to being touched gently, especially not his face. His skin tingled at the touch, but he let her, her small fingers tracing his nose and running through his hair. Her scent filled his nostrils, as he tried not to drool. She smelled delicious, sweet like a pastry.

“Huh, you kinda look like me.”

He cocked his head again, the mild shift of expression now visible without the mask. He didn’t doubt it, with them being siblings, but he’d rarely seen his own reflection. It was odd, hearing her make the comparison, when despite the relation, they were otherwise oh-so different.

The feeling of hunger returned to derail such thoughts, his stomach rumbling as it desired to be filled. Still, he had to make sure she wouldn’t run, wouldn’t struggle until it was too late.

So with great care, he placed one of his hands on her, hoping she wouldn’t run. A shudder, but she seemed otherwise unafraid, guard down, survival instinct dulled by curiosity. Another hand on her, both now behind her back, and he suppressed the urge to smile.

He had her, she’s fallen into his trap.

His stomach growled again, louder, as his mouth began to water in anticipation. 

“Are you okay?”

He couldn’t wait any longer.

Hands gripping her sides, Michael opened his mouth and shoved her head inside, before she had the chance to scream. 

His tongue exploded with her flavor, tastebuds tingling wherever her skin touched them. He ravenously pulled her in deeper, licking at her face as she desperately squirmed to free herself. They were futile however, as with loud swallow, more of Laurie was pulled inside of him. 

He was quick and efficient, the need to silence his craving driving him forward. Her squirms only aided him in getting her down, and before he knew it, her feet were slipping down his throat.

Finally, he was satisfied. A light moan of delight escaped his lips as the hunger disappeared, his prize tucked away inside him. 

Michael could feel her, hear her, kicking and screaming, but both actions were muffled by his body. Something wet trickled down his chin, which he wiped off with his hand. Oh, he was drooling.

With no more reason to remain exposed, Michael slipped his mask back on, becoming the Shape once more. After all, there were still three survivors left to sacrifice.

Yet, he stayed down there a little longer. The relief of the hunger, the sensation of her squirms, they gave him a euphoria. Laurie screamed and begged to be let out, the words hard to make out, not that he listened. But finally having her, and knowing she could not escape, made him oh so happy.

So giving his slightly outstretched gut a pat, he left the florescent-lit basement to hunt down the remaining survivors. After all, the entity hungered as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: this fic's beta title was "Boogie Boi eats the strudel - a mistake in the making brought to you by a thirsty author".
> 
> Also Strudel is a nickname I have for Laurie, since it kinda sounds like Strode.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **WARNING**  
>  The next part of this fic contains _forced regurgitation_. If you want to avoid reading such content, please do not read more.

The trial had been a success. Without the distraction and pain of the hunger pangs, Michael had been able hunt them down with ease, a confidence in his step, the remaining three all sacrificed to the entity.

Now, he finally had some alone time to enjoy his meal.

Laurie's squirmed had lessened as the trial went on, likely tired out. But now as he sat silently on a worn down bench, her vim and vigor returned. 

He gave his gut a much more firm pats, trying to encourage her to not kick so viciously. The more gentle movements were pleasant, but Laurie's struggles were on the border of painful.

And then, for a moment, she stopped. There was a relief. Maybe, she'd finally settled down, given up. 

He really should’ve doubted such an idea.

Without warning, a sharp pain pierced his stomach, causing him to cry out. It hurt so much, Michael clawing at his chest, attempting to bear it. It was only moments before the pain morphed into nausea, and he knew without a doubt, he was going to vomit.

Knowing he only had seconds before his body would force him, Michael tore the mask off his face, dropping it without a care of where it would land. He only had a split second to appreciate the cool air on his sweaty face, before the retching began.

The entity’s blessing had allowed him to do the impossible, swallow a person whole, all without any pain for the killer. But it seemingly had not considered if the prey forced the killer to bring them back up.

Everything was sore, burning from both strain and acid, as Laurie slid out of his mouth, leaving an emptiness behind. It took a few heaves for her to come all the way out, and a few more dry ones before his body let him stop.

Now both predator and prey lay on the ground, one covered with and in a pool of bodily fluids, the other trembling on his hands and knees, chin dripping with the unpleasant liquids.

Laurie didn’t move right away, taking a moment to regain her bearings, before taking in her much less cramped surroundings. She gazed down at Michael with a mix of fear and fury, before she tried to make her escape.

He wouldn’t, couldn’t let her. The scratching, needy, unrelenting hunger was back already, and he couldn’t bear it, not again.

So as Laurie got up to leave, with what strength he could currently muster, Michael latched a hand around her ankle, attempting to keep her in place while he tried to recover. 

Laurie was not having it. She kicked at his hand with her free foot, attempting to watch it from his grasp. He wouldn’t let her.

“Michael, let me go!”

She wouldn’t stay, especially without knowing his motive. If he wanted to keep her, he quickly realized it would need to be willing. Laurie would not give up getting away.

There was a way. But he hated it.

So with utmost reluctance, Michael put his voicebox to use. It was barely audible, voice shaky and scratchy from both the retching and lack of use, but nonetheless, he spoke.

“Don't go. It hurts when you’re gone.”

Laurie froze. She stared at Michael with shock, having never heard his voice, and surprised he could talk at all. She’d stopped struggling, knowing Michael must be desperate if he broke his silence.

“What hurts?”

A glimmer of hope. She cared enough to ask him, thus maybe she'd be willing to help him. He gripped at his stomach, feeling the emptiness inside calling for her.

“Your stomach?”

A nod. He didn’t want to speak again, the sensation uncomfortable, along with the current rawness of tongue and throat.

“So you want to keep me in your stomach?”

Another nod. He cast his eyes downward, a guilt of knowing she’d never agree to such a thing. She’d never willingly let him keep her, eat her. Would anyone?

And yet, she was taking time to consider, that shred of hope remained.

“…How long?”

A shrug. He had no answer. He’d only just finally caught her, so such information he was not yet privy to.

“…Fine.”

Michael's head jolted up to look at her.

“But I have some conditions. You’ll be pleasant outside of trial and sometimes inside them. You’ll let me out when I want, and let me take this with me.”

Laurie displayed the familiar shard to Michael, a bit of fresh blood on the tip. The decisive strike. The object that had forced him to puke her out, based on the fresh red.

It didn’t take him log to decide, as his stomach rumbled and roared to be filled again. With a furious nod, he motioned yes.

And with that agreement, he let her ankle go.

To his relief, she didn’t leave. Laurie stayed, as Michael rose back to his full height, still recovering from the blow she’d dealt his gut. It still throbbed with pain.

So in the meantime, the siblings sat on the bench, giving his stomach a chance to heal. He’d fetched his mask from the dying grass, the pale piece of latex laying in his lap, as Michael stared into the distance.

This silent togetherness, just sitting in pleasant silence with someone, he’d never really had it. It was nice. 

He was lucky that despite everything, all the hell he’d put her through, his sister had cared enough to do this for him. He didn’t deserve it, not in the slightest.

So as she ever so slightly leaned into him, tired from struggling, he once again gave her the gift of his voice.

“Thank you.”


End file.
